


Somebody to Love

by Aspiring_TrashPanda



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Fluff, Karaoke, M/M, Sanji has the voice of an angel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, i stand by my headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28145880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aspiring_TrashPanda/pseuds/Aspiring_TrashPanda
Summary: What better way to express your emotions than through song?ZoSan fluffy one shot!
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	Somebody to Love

Zoro hated karaoke with a burning passion equal to the white hot heat of a thousand burning suns.

  
So, why was he here? Why was he seated in a booth directly by the stage of some sleazy bar, throwing back cheap beer after cheap beer while his friends signed up to perform? The answer was obvious, as he would follow his friends to hell and back, and they were currently burning amongst the devil’s flames. It was his duty, as he had a stellar alcohol tolerance, to keep the hooligans in check, to carry the lightweight cook over one shoulder and the dumbass ‘captain’ (as he called himself) over the other as they wandered belligerently down the sidewalk that would eventually lead them home. 

  
Besides, the drinks here cost little more than some pocket lint, and the bartender knew to keep his glass full. The goateed man with DEATH tattooed across his fingers had been eyeing him since the first day they had visited the dive bar, introducing himself every time Zoro had saddled up to the counter. At this point, Zoro could practically recite the man’s pick up attempts by heart, but there was a part of him that was charmed by his tenacity. Zoro knew that Law was an attractive man, and it was truly unfortunate that Zoro was head over heels in love with another idiot. 

  
The group of nine sat around a large booth, with a few chairs pulled up to the end. Wedged between the level headed, elegantly composed, mature voice of the group, Robin, and the naïve little brother, Chopper, Zoro was quite content with his current position. He had successfully evaded the aggravating cook, hyperactive group leader, and overly enthusiastic… Franky. There was no better way to describe the bulky body builder. He was loud, he was eccentric, and he was entertaining. He was just, _Franky_. 

  
“Zoro, are you gonna sing?” Chopper chimed from his side, eyes wide and expectant as he stared up at the green haired twenty one year old at his side. 

  
He hated letting the kid down, but he would also never be caught dead voicing a melody into a shared microphone, flaunting how tone deaf he was in front of his closest friends. He patted the seventeen year old on the back and chuckled, “Nah, it’s not my thing.”

  
When the teen, only allowed in the bar during late night hours thanks to his fake ID and the verbal agreement that he would not touch any alcohol, deflated, Zoro added, “Luffy will be up soon though!”

  
Sure enough, the moment the words had escaped his lips, the host of the night – an elderly man by the name of Brook, whose skin hung off his face like he had died a long time ago – called their friend’s name, and the nineteen year old in the red hoodie took the stage. The Beastie Boys’ ‘Sabotage’ began playing over the speakers and Zoro grinned, ruffling Chopper’s mossy hair in a noogie, ignoring the younger man’s protests. 

  
“ _Awwwww! Can’t stand it, I know you planned it!_ ”Luffy sang-shout into the mic, swinging his arms dramatically and using the boundless energy that he was so well known for to throw himself around the stage. 

  
Nami, seated across the table, flipped her red hair and giggled something into her boyfriend’s ear. Usopp turned his entire head in her direction, hanging on to her every word as he tied back his mess of curly black hair. He chuckled in agreement and turned his attention back to his friend’s performance. 

  
Luffy was truly rocking the stage, getting the audience to join in on the memorable lines, and pretending to play the signature bass rift on the stomach of his hoody. His raven locks flopped as he banged his head to the music, his worn yellow baseball cap nearly tumbling from his head. His sandaled feet stomped on the stage as he shouted the rebellious tune into the microphone, spittle flying from his mouth.

  
“Ew,” Nami whined, “I’m going to have to sing into that same microphone in a few seconds.”

  
“That’s like the equivalent of making out with Luffy,” Usopp chuckled, laughing even harder when she reacted to his comment with a lurch forward and a violent gag. Romance, right?

  
“Does he have to choose this song _every_ time?” The tattooed bartender groaned as he approached the booth with another round of drinks. 

  
Zoro threw back the rest of his beer, unsurprised when the man placed another one in front of him, though he hadn’t ordered it, accompanied with a wink. He grinned at Law, yet the action was strained, awkward. He didn’t want to lead the man on and had made it clear plenty of times that he wasn’t interested. Nevertheless, he still felt he was getting preferential treatment. 

  
“Something on your mind, Zoro?” Robin whispered in his ear, big blue eyes staring knowingly into his soul. It was truly intimidating how she could decipher your thoughts simply by looking at you. 

  
He shook his head in response to the woman at his side.

  
“The bartender seems to have ulterior motives for filling your drink,” She mused, and Zoro cursed himself for not realizing sooner what she was getting at.

  
“Yeah, well,” Zoro grumbled, taking a large swig of beer before placing his forearms on the uncomfortably sticky table in front of him, “He’s… nice, but I’m not interested in him.”

  
“Of course,” Robin giggled, “Because of cook-san.” 

  
He groaned inwardly, though on the outside, he looked stoic as ever, refusing to acknowledge the woman’s comment. It wasn’t her business anyway. She didn’t get it.

  
Luffy’s song ended with a round of applause, and Nami was called to the stage next. Usopp kissed her hand as she passed by, and the stupid cook, who Zoro had been avoiding looking at, babbled that if it was her turn, he would surely be next.

  
As the opening bars to ABBA’s ‘Money, Money, Money’ started, Zoro registered the words that the blond man across the table had spoken.

  
His name was Sanji, not that it mattered much, not that it was the most beautiful name Zoro had ever heard. As Zoro was Japanese, he couldn’t help relating the aspiring chef’s name to the number three. That being said, he had always been taught that good things and bad things came in groups of three, and ever since he had met the man, he had been praying for the former. 

  
There was something about the lanky blond. Something that made his skin burn an angry red, made him lash out and challenge him to a fight, made him poke fun at his silky locks, and punch him in his well-muscled ribs. Perhaps it was his strength, his ability to fight off the sketchy bullies that preyed on them in the dead of the night. Perhaps it was the safety inferred by his back against his. Perhaps it was his ocean blue eyes, or his golden hair, or his stupid spiraled eyebrow and unhealthy chain-smoking habit. His older sister, Perona, had teased that he wanted to pull his hair, just as young boys tugged at the pigtails of their female classmates, and he hadn’t been able to come up with a witty rebuttal. 

  
Regardless, he was hopelessly devoted to the man who would one day become the greatest chef in the world. Yet, there was nothing he could do about it, for that very man hated him.

  
Nami’s voice dipped up and down, following the tune perfectly, not missing a single note. Her fiery hair shone golden in the spotlight, and she moved her body along with the music, making Usopp holler out her name in support. Zoro idly wondered what it would be like to be in a healthy relationship with Sanji. Would the blond come to his kendo tournaments? Would he cheer out to encourage him? Would Zoro visit the chef at work? Let him cook for him? Let him feed him?

  
It seemed too intimate, too sentimental, and Zoro flinched away from the vulnerability associated with a relationship. No, he would not be one to braid Sanji’s hair and kiss his cheek. He wouldn’t be one to wish him sweet dreams. He most certainly would never hold his hand in public, let alone kiss the bastard. That was too soft, too much for Zoro to handle. It seemed _too real_ to consider those actions, and he didn’t want to get his hopes up, as the truth was that he did want to do those things. He wanted to scream from the top of the mountain that he was Sanji’s, and Sanji his. 

  
Alas, the cook would never look at him the way he ogled the female form.

  
He stifled a sigh. He was being ridiculous. Centering himself, he focused on the leather bench beneath him, acknowledging the energy of the dark haired woman to his right, and the brunet teen to his left. They were enjoying Nami’s song. A twinge of guilt tugged at his heart. He should be enjoying Nami’s song too, if he wasn’t so damn preoccupied with the recurring thoughts of slamming his lips against those of the cook’s. They looked so soft, so warm.

  
Goddamn. 

  
“What’s Zoro thinking about?” Luffy snickered, jabbing his index finger directly into Zoro’s sternum, provoking a grumble.

  
With a stern look at the teen, Zoro asserted, “Nothing, just how much money I owe the witch,” before taking a large swig of beer. It was a light local craft, mildly hoppy and bubbly on his tongue. He briefly considered asking Law about the brewery, then discarded the idea.

He would have been doing it to make Sanji jealous after all.

  
There was a round of applause as the red head finished her tune, Brook complimenting her on a job well done. Nami slid back into her seat next to Usopp, receiving his praise and reciprocating by planting her lips on his, as the cook stood. Zoro considered that the blond’s powerful legs looked extra shapely today, and he cursed his train of thought (which was certainly asking him how those legs would feel wrapped around Zoro’s waist). Brook announced his name, and the pining man could have sworn it echoed around the small bar, mocking him, screaming at him to make a move. 

  
He wondered what song the chef had chosen, assuming it to be a love ballad for the many girls he hadn’t been able to snag. Maybe he would go after the pinkette by the bar top, shoveling pizza into her mouth as if it was the last meal she would ever have. Perhaps he would even try to hook up with the black haired beauty, Robin, seated next to him.

  
Zoro’s blood ran cold. Just how awful was this going to make him feel?

  
Sanji took the stage, his slim body looking tall and lanky in his flashy black suit, yellow pinstriped shirt beneath. The bright color emphasized the olden shade of his shiny tresses that draped ever so mysteriously over one eye.

  
There was no instrumentation to lead the cook in. Brook simply leaned into the mic, muttering a soft, “1, 2, 3, 4.”

  
And then he began to sing.

  
“ _Can… Anybody… Find me, somebody to love,_ ” He started, jumping from note to note as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

  
Zoro’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

  
The piano began to play, leading Sanji to croon the next part, hand over his chest and brow furrowed. He looked as if he was in the heat of an argument, as if he was about to start a bar fight, and Zoro loved it.

  
“ _Oooooh, each morning I get up I die a little, can barely stand on my feet,_ ” Sanji sang into the mic, and Zoro could have sworn his ocean blue eyes were staring right into his soul.

  
No, he must have been mistaken. He was probably looking at Robin.

  
“ _Take a look in the mirror and cry, ‘Lord, what’re you doing to me?_ ’” He paced about the tiny stage, swaying his hips, and Zoro found himself falling into a trance.

  
He had known the blond for two years. He was a feisty sous-chef with the aspiration to become the executive chef of a Michelin Star restaurant one day. He had legs for days, and they weren’t just for show. No, the lanky blond had an obscene amount of muscle, and if you crossed him, he would kick your ass into the stratosphere. That just made Zoro like him more. He was fierce, he never wasted food, and he had a great judge of character. Although Zoro hated to admit, he would bend over backwards to spend time with the moron, even if it was just to playfully bicker about the weather, or equally insignificant matters. If he was lucky, they would even fight. The blond would pin him down, two feet poised on top of two wrists while Zoro writhed on the ground, if the curly browed idiot was lucky. If the sparring wasn’t in the chef’s favour, Zoro would corner him against a wall, leaning into him, waiting until Sanji got too flustered and pushed him away.

  
The rest of their friends assumed they didn’t get along. _Sanji_ assumed they didn’t get along. But Zoro? No, Zoro was hopelessly in love with the idiot, and he knew it. 

  
_“I have spent all my years in believing you, but I just can't get no relief, Lord!”_ The lanky blonde leaned forward into the audience, breathing, “ _Somebody_.”

  
The rest of the bar patrons, spurred on by Franky, who gestured to the rest of the group, yelled, “ _Somebody_!”

  
“ _Oooooh somebody_.”

  
“ _Somebody_!” The crowd echoed.

  
“ _Can anybody find me somebody to love?”_ Sanji asked the question, sorrow lingering in his visible blue eye beneath the swirly eyebrow that drew so much attention. Zoro was sure that the blond would have sang directly to Nami or Robin, if they weren’t likely to bop him on the head in response.

  
The second verse passed, and then the bridge, and then the third verse, and Zoro was captivated by Sanji’s movements, by his long legs as he paced about the stage, his hands animating his poses as he sang into the mic, his heart leaking out of his vocal chords. He sang with passion, not unlike the way he poured love into everything he cooked. His voice, raspy yet clear and jumping octave to octave resonated in Zoro’s head, emphasizing his talent, screaming at the green-haired young adult to do something.

  
He wanted to get up on stage and kiss him. He wanted to run his large, calloused hands, through his soft golden locks and tell him just how beautiful he was. He wanted to taste his tongue, which would surely remind him of the salt of the sea, and stale tobacco. Zoro knew it wouldn’t bother him. It was a part of Sanji, and Zoro loved all of him. 

  
He could feel Robin’s eyes watching him, omniscient and smug. He knew Usopp and Nami were whispering their predictions, placing bets on what they thought would happen. Franky had ignited a lighter and was leading the rest of the crowd in waving flames through the air, emphasizing the romance of the song. Luffy and Chopper were simply stunned by Sanji’s incredible talent. It wasn’t every day that someone crooned a Queen song with as much confidence as Freddie Mercury himself. 

  
And Zoro, well, Zoro was a mess of emotions, sinking into the leather booth on which he sat, and wishing he was invisible. 

  
The music began to fade as the song reached the second bridge, the pre-recorded backing vocals leading the song into the next part.

  
“ _Find me somebody to love_ ,” The bar began to join in, “ _Find me somebody to love_.”

  
Sanji began to whine melodically over the chanting, curving his body as he arched his back and held the microphone high above his mouth. 

  
Brook stood from his laptop that was controlling the music, waving a bony arm in the air like a conductor as every single person in the bar began to chant along with the backing vocals. Luffy and Chopper began to instruct half the crowd to clap along with the beat, while Franky and Usopp got the remainder to pound their fists on the tables. It was a strange mix of percussion, but it worked, and Zoro could feel the tension building in the room as the chanting built up beneath Sanji’s perfect voice.

  
“ _Find me somebody to love. Find me somebody to love.”_

  
Zoro was expecting the blond to pick a lady to serenade the next part to, to bring her up on stage and lead her into a deep dip while he sang to her. He surveyed the crowd, grey eyes darting across the handful of tables with chairs wedged around them, searching for the woman that the cook would target. There were plenty of stunning females at the dive bar this evening, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find a willing partner.

  
“ _Find me somebody to love. Find me somebody to love.”_

  
Then Robin gently placed her hand on Zoro’s lap, and the green-haired young adult brought his attention back to the stage. 

  
Sanji had fallen silent, allowing the bar to take over the song. He stood unnaturally still, his lips set in a tight frown, and his perfect, visible eye staring directly at Zoro. He looked intensely focused, as if… as if he had found his target. 

  
Heat washed over Zoro’s skin, and he felt as though somebody had shone a spotlight on him.

  
Perhaps that was because Usopp and Nami were shining their cell phone flashlights onto him, while Robin giggled supportively.

  
“ _Find me somebody to love love love. Find me somebody to love. Find me somebody to love._ ”

  
Zoro was frozen in place. Was this really happening right now? Had his life become a goddamn musical? Had the stupid, moronic, perfect idiot really chosen to serenade him? Was he… was he coming out? Was he telling everybody that he was interested in Zoro just as Zoro was interested in him?

  
There was no way.

  
It wasn’t possible.

  
And yet, Sanji was crossing the stage, unraveling the microphone cord and traveling with it over to their booth. Ignoring the protests from Law behind the bar, he climbed onto the table, taking extra care not to knock over any of their precious alcohol. He sunk onto his knees, on the surface in front of Zoro, never breaking eye contact.

  
Luffy and Franky rushed onto the vacated stage, dividing the crowd into two separate groups and directing for the following chanting. 

  
“ _Somebody_!” The left side cheered.

  
“ _Somebody_!” The right side hollered.

  
“ _Somebody_!”

  
“ _Somebody_!”

  
Zoro’s hands were trembling. His heart was racing. There was something so unfamiliar in the way that Sanji stared at him. He had only seen this look once, as the green haired man had pinned the blond to the wall after winning a fight. There had been a brief flash of an emotion, and then Zoro had quickly forgotten all about it, tearing his gaze away as he had been kneed in the balls. Yet, here Sanji was, giving himself to him, something that Zoro would even call desire in his sparkling blue eyes. 

  
“ _Somebody_!” 

  
“ _Find me_!”

  
Even Robin joined in, singing “ _Find me somebody to love_ ,” and pushing Zoro to his feet so that he was face to face with the blond idiot in front of him.

  
The cook took a deep breath as the music faded out, the crowd falling completely silent. Not a single whisper, a single rustle of a jacket, or the squeak of a leather seat was heard. The surroundings faded to black, golden hair and blue eyes and pale skin and a swirly eyebrow the only things worthy of illumination. The charged tension in the air would need a chainsaw to hack through it. 

  
Zoro gave him his undivided attention as Sanji serenaded him with enough emotion to voice all the unspoken words, “ _Can anybody find me… Somebody to… Love.”_

  
The note died out earlier than it should have, the microphone falling to the table with an harsh _thunk_! as Zoro balled his fist in the silky fabric of the cook’s yellow pinstriped dress shirt, slamming his lips against his. 

  
The music continued it’s uplifting chorus, yet there was no singing.

  
It didn’t matter, because the vocalist was in his arms and his tongue was flicking against his lips. 

  
A loud cheer erupted throughout the bar. There were hoots and hollers and a round of applause raucous enough to deafen a child. Even the mildly disappointed bartender smirked at the confession that had been a long time coming to everyone other than the two idiots involved. Usopp begrudgingly handed Nami a twenty dollar bill, as the rest of the booth rejoiced. 

  
Sanji’s lithe frame was pressing against Zoro’s broad chest as the blond returned the kiss with enthusiasm and fervor. He grinned into the embrace, snaking his tongue into the other man’s mouth as Zoro finally fulfilled his dream of lovingly tangling his fingers in the cook’s luscious hair. 

  
They kissed with urgency, as if making up for all the lost time they had spent pining over each other instead of, well, making out. They kissed as if it was to be their only kiss ever, one to always remember. And yet, they kissed as if this would be the standard for all kisses to follow. 

  
Like all things in their relationship, this was a competition. The cook may have won this round, he may have gotten the satisfaction of pinning Zoro against a wall and flustering him, but that didn’t mean that Zoro had lost. 

  
In fact, he had won the greatest prize, all while simultaneously being granted the opportunity to up the ante, to feel fueled with motivation and inspiration to triumph over the cook in their next match.

  
After all, Zoro thought with a grin, there were probably many more ‘matches’ to come.

  
As the last chords of the shong faded out and the chatter of the bar resumed, Zoro kept his one hand in Sanji’s hair and the other gripping the man’s collar. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want the moment to end, to become a memory.

  
As if reading his mind, the blond placed a reassuring kiss on the green haired man’s cheek, reassuring him that this was so much more than a fleeting, spontaneous action. Pale skin flushed a beautiful, glowing pink, the cook shimmied off the table and went to return the microphone to its rightful place, waving bashfully to those who cat called him. 

  
Zoro smiled to himself as his grey eyes followed the lanky body around the bar. Perhaps karaoke wasn’t that bad.


End file.
